A Bad Feeling
by Alipeeps
Summary: Sheppard has a bad feeling about this mission.. and with good reason. Shep whumpage possibly other whumpage. No idea where I'm going with this but it should be fun! :D Chapter 3 now up!
1. Prologue

_This was a bit of a plot bunny that has been bugging me – it's a Shep whumper – "No, surely not!", I hear you cry – and the inspiration was basically as simple as "Sheppard gets shot in the shoulder". What can I say? I like my whump simple and uncomplicated.. :)_

_Other than that I felt the need to write it Sheppy POV, first person – which I've not really done before._

_Please review and let me know what you think so far :)

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I had a bad feeling about this mission right from the start.

Oh sure, the villagers seemed friendly enough; they welcomed us, fed us, were happy to open trade negotiations, waved us off with smiles and promises to trade for all kinds of great stuff on our return. They seemed nice enough folk.

So why did I keep getting an itch right in the middle of my shoulder blades? Why did I feel so darned uncomfortable the whole time we were in that village? Oh yeah, that's right; cos I had a bad feeling right from the start. All McKay's derogatory comments about military minds aside, instinct is a large part of soldiering. And my spidey-sense was going off like crazy. Something here just wasn't… right.

I could tell Ronon felt it too. He was on edge. Not that you'd ever know it just to look at him… but I knew Ronon well, knew what to look for. He wasn't happy about this mission either.

And Teyla? Teyla had been somewhat less than her usual engaging self during the meet and greet. On leaving the village she was quiet and.. alert. I'm thinking she had a bad feeling too.

McKay, of course, was sweetly oblivious to the tension in the air, occupying himself on the trek back to the gate with a continuous tirade - something about the futility of stopping off on every primitive planet to make friends with the locals. I'm sure he'd have been quite hurt to realise that not a one of his limited audience was paying him any attention whatsoever. Aside from the fact that learning to tune out Rodney's occasional ranting was a necessary survival skill in itself, the three of us who were trained in actual combat survival techniques were far too preoccupied by.. a really bad feeling.

The attack, when it came, was sudden. And well-planned, I'll give them that. Despite our alertness and all our caution, we still had only a split-second's warning – just time for Ronon to call out "Sheppard!" as he caught a glimpse of something to our left, and then shots rang out, shattering the silence of the summery afternoon.

I shouted, "Get down!" as we returned fire and I instinctively took a brief second to make sure Rodney was paying attention and taking cover. That second cost me dear. All I was aware of at first was the impact, a solid thud against my shoulder that punched into me and staggered me backwards. I think I would have stayed upright but suddenly my legs gave out from under me and I found myself flat on my back, gunfire ringing in my ears, struggling to comprehend how I'd ended up there. For a moment everything was numb and then a burning pain set in, centred on my right shoulder and spreading outwards, stealing the strength from my muscles and the breath from my lungs.

"Shit!" Well, I had enough breath left to swear, at least.

I gritted my teeth and rolled, trying to get enough leverage – with only one functioning arm – to get to my knees and eventually my feet. That was the plan anyhow. I'd gotten as far as the knees stage when a large hand grabbed hold of the back of my tac vest and pulled sharply. The motion pulled me off balance, twisted me around again, and I suddenly saw sky again and then, craning my neck to look back over my shoulder, the back of Ronon's legs as he dragged me roughly behind him.

I bit back a curse as he pulled me swiftly across the stony ground, the tac vest bunching up under my armpits as he ran, turning to fire over his shoulder, my legs dragging helplessly in our wake. He dumped me unceremoniously on the ground behind a decent-sized outcropping of rocks, my head thumping against the hard earth as he let go of my vest and turned immediately to rest his gun on a nearby rock, taking careful aim as he picked off another attacker.

I lay stunned for a moment, my brain trying desperately to catch up with events, and then my radio crackled to life.

"Colonel Sheppard?" The concern was evident in Teyla's voice. Gunfire spat in the background.

"Yeah. Here." I struggled to sit up. "Where are you? Is McKay with you?"

"I'm here, Colonel!" McKay's voice was high-pitched, panicked.

"Are you guys okay?" I reached across my body with my left hand, fumbling to remove the 9mm from its holster on my right thigh. It takes two hands to use the P90 that still dangled from my tac vest but, even left-handed, I'm a better than fair shot with the 9mm.

"No, we're _not_ okay.."

"Teyla?" I ignored Rodney's incredulous response, simply talking over him to get to the person I wanted to hear from. I knew I could rely on Teyla to give a calm assessment of their situation.

"We are unharmed, Colonel." Thank goodness for small mercies. "We have taken cover near our original position but our situation is not secure."

"Okay, hang fire. Ronon and me are coming to get you."

My voice was starting to sound tight, my breath short from the burning fire in my shoulder. I gritted my teeth and clambered clumsily, painfully, to my knees beside Ronon. He spared me a quick glance inbetween letting off bursts of fire at the ambushers trying to sneak up on our position.

I couldn't tell how many there were – now that they had lost the element of surprise and we'd gone to ground they were being cautious, staying in cover, trying to move up in increments and out-flank us. Ronon was doing a good job of holding them off so far but time was not on our side. They had us outnumbered.

"We've got to reach Teyla and McKay, they're compromised."

Ronon's voice was calm enough but his words hit me hard. "We're cut off, Sheppard. We've got enemy fire between us and Teyla's position."

"Dammit." This day really was turning out incredibly crappy. What the hell else could go wrong?

I got my answer soon enough.

A burst of gunfire rang out from the direction of Teyla's position. The angry pain in my shoulder was nothing next to the sudden tight fist that gripped my heart.

I clicked the radio. "Teyla!"

Nothing. "McKay?"

Silence. Static. Ronon's gun fired, the sizzling retort loud in my ears.

I tried again. "Teyla? Rodney? Come in?"

There was a sudden crackle of static and the radio burst to life. An unfamiliar voice, at first too distant to make out the words. I could faintly hear McKay's voice in the background, relief flooding through me, his words indistinct but the tone of biting sarcasm clear enough, and the unknown voice became louder as the radio was obviously held closer to the speaker's mouth.

"Colonel Sheppard?" He didn't wait for an answer. "You will surrender your weapons or your friends will die."

"Who the hell is this?" I was in no mood to be polite right now.

"Surrender or I shoot Dr McKay first."

Shit. Whoever this guy was he seemed to know a lot; right down to who was who on my team. I tried haggling one last time.

"Is my team unharmed?"

There was a moment's pause and then Teyla's voice came faintly over the radio, cold with resentment. I could just imagine the mutinous look on her face. "We are uninjured, Colonel…"

"For now." Didn't get much clearer than that. Hands up – or else.

"Sheppard.." Ronon didn't need to say any more than that; I shared his misgivings and then some.

But.. "We don't have a choice here, Ronon."

"Your last chance, Colonel." The voice was cold, uncompromising. "Lay down your weapons."

I took the time to utter a particularly choice epithet and took a breath before replying. "Okay. Let's not do anything rash… we're coming out."

"Throw your weapons out first."

Not stupid either, it would appear. I looked at Ronon and he glowered, then tossed his gun over the rocks with a look of profound disgust. My 9mm followed. It took me a moment to fumble left-handed with the cord fastening the P90 to my vest and the voice on the radio was impatient, "All of them, Colonel Sheppard."

"Okay, okay.." I really didn't like where this was headed. I got the P90 free and tossed it over the rocks. Our attackers were there in an instant, popping up from cover and running forward to focus their weapons on us. They were a non-descript enough bunch; didn't seem to be military, wore no uniforms or anything, just a rag-tag mixture of clothing of a style similar to that worn in the village. I had no idea who these people were or what they might want with us. My concern at the moment was that, rag-tag or not, they were in possession of some fairly serious-looking projectile weapons, not too dissimilar from our own 9mm's or the Genii handguns, and it was obvious from their stance that they had been well-trained in how to use them.

One of them gestured firmly with his gun and the intent was clear - get up and move forward. Slowly and with your hands where we can see them kinda went without saying.

I couldn't help a hiss of pain as I staggered to my feet. My right arm felt numb and heavy and I was vaguely aware of a hot, sticky dampness around my shoulder and trickling down my arm. Our captors looked less than sympathetic and the quick gesture came again – get moving. Ronon stayed close beside me as we moved out from behind the rocks, a kind of controlled fury evident in his every movement. I wasn't at all surprised that our new friends stayed a good sensible distance away from us as we walked… but I suspect that was entirely due to a healthy fear of the angry Satedan rather than of a slightly wobbly, discretely bleeding, air force Colonel.

I'd been right about the mutinous look on Teyla's face. She and McKay were kneeling as we came into view, more of the mis-matched group of attackers keeping weapons trained on them from a safe distance. Teyla looked like she was trying hard to keep calm, to talk reason to these people. McKay looked plain terrified. One of the group turned to watch us approach and I saw the radio earpiece in his hand. Mr Mystery Voice.

There was nothing remarkable about him either – medium height, stocky build, clothes of decent quality but having seen long wear. His hair was dark and his eyes cold. There was something about the way he looked at Ronon and me that I really didn't like. Let's just call it… a bad feeling.

He didn't say a word as our escort gestured to us to halt, more weapons raising to train on us as we stood defenceless. I opened my mouth to speak and I saw his gaze slide past me, focusing on something behind me as he nodded. I've no idea what I was going to say to him – didn't matter anyway because, before I could turn or react, I felt a stunning blow from behind. I think I actually heard the crack as a hard object connected with the back of my skull and I slumped forwards, pain stabbing through my head.

I hit the ground hard, face down – I remember that much – but I didn't feel any pain, not even in my shoulder, because the blackness was already closing in around me.

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_TBC…_


	2. Waking Up

_It's chapter 2 – let the whumpage begin in earnest :)_

_I'll be honest here and admit I've got no idea where I'm going with this one – it started from a very simple concept and from there on in I'm pretty much making it up as I go along._

_I can't wait to find out what's going to happen next! –Grin-_

_As ever, please read and review and let me know your thoughts...

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The pain was waiting for me when I woke up.

My head was throbbing, a heavy, hot pain pulsing at the base of my skull. My shoulder was on fire, burning with a sharp pain that spiked, hot and angry, down my arm and up the side of my neck. As consciousness returned, I became aware that I was seated and that my arms were pulled back behind me, something coarse and scratchy wrapped tight around my wrists, holding them in place. The position really did nothing for the pain in my shoulder.

I realised groggily that I was leaning forward, putting further strain on my shoulder, my head hanging heavily. I struggled to lift my head and couldn't help a small groan as the throbbing pain kicked up a notch, making my head spin dizzily.

"Colonel!"

McKay's voice, tight with barely-controlled panic mixed with a hint of relief.

I got my head upright on my shoulders, still feeling as though the room was rotating around me, and risked cracking open an eye. Bright light stabbed into my retina and I cringed, screwing my eyes shut.

"Colonel Sheppard?"

Okay, Teyla was here too. Wherever here was.

I kept my eyes shut, waiting for the pain to subside a little.

"Ronon?" My voice sounded about how I felt – rough as hell.

"I'm here, Sheppard."

Hey, hey, the gang's all here. I felt a rush of relief.

"You guys okay?" My head was swimming a little less now.

"No, we're not!"

"We are.. well enough"

As usual, Rodney's voice was raised in indignation where Teyla's was calm and considered. The comforting familiarity of that made me smile briefly.

I decided to risk a second go at opening my eyes. This time I squinted against the light and let my eyes slowly adjust and, gradually, my surroundings came into focus. It wasn't an inspiring sight. The room was plain; bare, stone walls and no windows, brightly lit from an overhead light source. I turned my head gingerly to the right and found Ronon slouched defiantly on a plain wooden chair, his long legs stretched carelessly out in front of him, his arms pulled back, obviously also tied together behind the chair back. He looked uncomfortable but not injured, more angry than anything.

"Sheppard." His tone of voice spoke volumes of frustration and growing rage. I had a moment's sympathy for anyone who was unlucky enough to cross Ronon's path after he got loose from here.

Teyla greeted me with a solemn nod from her chair to Ronon's right. Familiar posture, arms pulled back behind the chair. And that left... I turned carefully to the left, still wary of aggravating the throbbing pain in my skull, to find Rodney, his face pale and set, his arms stretched back around the chair.

"You okay, Rodney?"

"Oh yes, just fine thanks!" he snapped acidly. "Being kidnapped by goons with guns is fun for me!" His sharp words didn't quite mask the note of fear in his voice. I realised belatedly that both Rodney's and Teyla's tac vests were missing and a quick glance down at myself confirmed the diagnosis. Our captors, whoever they were, had taken our vests and weapons – even my thigh holster was missing.

This really sucked. My right arm was starting to go numb and I wondered how long I had been out, just how long we'd been tied up in these chairs. I tried to sit up a little straighter and sucked in a rapid breath as the movement sent pain shooting down my arm. Shit. For a moment, spots danced before my eyes. My arm sure wasn't feeling numb anymore.

"Colonel?" There was a quaver to McKay's voice, panic bubbling just under the surface. I bit down on the pain, trying to concentrate. We were in a bad situation here. I gritted my teeth and twisted as far as I could to look over my shoulder. Nothing new there. Same stone walls, no windows. The room was small, only one door in the wall facing us. I wondered if whoever had stripped us of our weapons had found the knife strapped to Teyla's calf.. or any of the many blades hidden about Ronon's person.

I took a moment to properly assess my various aches and pains. Aside from the obvious – bleeding gunshot wound in my shoulder and a headache the size of Mount Everest thanks to some over-enthusiastic lackey trying to crack my skull open – my arms ached from being twisted at an awkward angle and my hands felt slightly numb and tingly; the coarse material – rope? – that chafed at my wrists was obviously tight enough to be restricting circulation. I gave my wrists an experimental pull and for my trouble got an angry response from skin rubbed raw by the rope and a jolt of pained protest from my shoulder. No give whatsoever in the bindings on my wrists. Other than that my butt felt kinda numb, like I'd been sitting in the same position for a good while. Just how long had I been tied to this damn chair, anyway?

"How long've I been out?" My head felt like someone had jumped up and down on it a few times.

"Coupla hours." Ronon's response was short and succinct, as ever, his tone matter of fact. Two hours? Shit. I looked to Teyla for confirmation and saw in her face the evidence of hours worth of frustration and concern. I imagined how I would be feeling right now if I'd spent the last hour and more tied to a chair, with one of my team injured and me not able to do a damn thing about it, not even check to see that they were ok. I suddenly had a better understanding of Ronon's gently seething fury.

I pushed my anger aside. That wasn't going to help us right now. We needed to start looking for a way out of this.

"Anyone have any idea what's going on here?"

Heads shaking all around. "They have not spoken to us since our capture," Teyla explained. "We were brought here under armed guard; we have seen no-one since then."

"D'you know where this place is, where they brought us?"

Ronon shook his head, dreadlocks bouncing. "They blindfolded us."

Dammit. Okay, think John. 2 hours - and from the feel of things we've been tied to these chairs for a good while. So.. moving on foot, with three blindfolded prisoners and one unconscious, they can't have taken us far. Definitely not off-planet; blindfolded or not, the others would have noticed a trip through the gate. We'd been due back at Atlantis approximately an hour or so from the time of the ambush so that put us one hour overdue already. Probably another hour or so at least before anyone would really start to worry.. as far as we knew this planet was low-tech and peaceful, nothing to get too concerned about. And when they did miss us they'd send a team to check up on us and they'd find.. what? A smiling, friendly village who'd last seen us waving goodbye as we headed back to the gate.

I cursed.

We had no idea who had captured us, or why.

"Teyla, Ronon, either of you guys still got a.."

I was interrupted by a sudden scraping noise, like a bolt being drawn back, and, with no more warning than that, the single door swung open.

The man who entered the room was of medium height, with dark hair and cold eyes. Hello, Mr Mystery Voice. He was followed by a couple of goons, big muscular types who looked plenty intimidating enough even without the guns they were pointing at us. I was kinda thinking that was exactly why our host had brought them along.

I'm not very good at being intimidated.

"Good afternoon," I smiled chattily, feigning a nonchalance I didn't feel, "or is it evening already? It's kinda hard to tell in here."

Mr Mystery Voice regarded me silently with those cold eyes, not a flicker of reaction on his face. Whoah. Tough crowd.

I met that cold gaze with one of my own and let the levity drop from my voice. I was done playing around here. "You wanna tell me what the hell this is all about?"

That got a reaction. The briefest flicker of a smile. Not good. Not good at all. I was starting to get that bad feeling again – real bad. He was enjoying this. He _liked_ keeping us in the dark, not knowing why this was happening to us. And that significantly lowered the odds that this was any kind of misunderstanding or disagreement that we could negotiate our way out of. There was an agenda here and I didn't have a clue what it was – only that it did not bode well for me and my team.

"Lt. Colonel John Sheppard." The same voice that I'd heard over the radio; smooth, confident, uncompromising. He regarded me with that same hidden amusement, his gaze flicking quickly over the other members of my team before returning to me.

"And who might you be?" I asked, unable to keep an edge of sarcasm out of my voice.

Mystery Voice gave a tiny nod and one of his goons stepped forward, holstering his gun. I had about a second to brace myself before he ploughed his fist into my gut, sending the air rushing from my lungs in an agonised gasp. My body tried instinctively to curl up around the hurt, my shoulder screaming in pain as the ropes at my wrists pulled, keeping me pinned to the back of the chair. I tried desperately to suck in air, my lungs burning, and my vision began to gray out on me. I was vaguely aware of cries of protest from my team and a sudden scuffling to my right.

I forced myself to breathe through the pain, to pull in oxygen despite the protestations of abused muscles. I was caught between conflicting needs; wanting to curl forward to relieve the sharp aching in my gut, needing to lean backwards to prevent the angry pain of the pull on my shoulder. My breath came in a harsh pant that sounded loud in my ears.

When my vision cleared and I had the strength to look up he was standing over me, a small smile on his face, secure in his dominance. He looked away and I followed his gaze to see goon number 2 with a gun to Ronon's forehead. The Satedan was straining forward in his chair, his face bared in a snarl of fury. Blood trickled down the side of his face from a shallow gash above his left eye. I could guess what had happened. Right now that gun was the only thing stopping Ronon from killing the guard, tied-up or not. From the look on his face, the goon knew it too.

Our host crouched down in front of me, putting himself at eye level, bringing my attention back to him. I concentrated on controlling my breathing, swallowing down on the pain, unwilling to give the bastard the satisfaction.

"My name is not important, Colonel." The cold eyes were alive now, shining with a sadistic pleasure that was more dangerous than any gun. "All you need to know is that you and your team are going to be my guests.. for the foreseeable future."

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_TBC..._


	3. High Stakes

_This update has been a long time in progress - really kinda struggled with where to go with this story... which will teach me to start writing a fic with no clear idea of where it's going and end up having to make it up as I go along:)_

_We're building up to some serious Shep whumpage here. Hope you enjoy ths chappy, please review and let me know your thoughts._

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I was starting to get the feeling I was _really_ not going to like this guy.

I gritted my teeth as he stood up easily, smiling down at me in amusement as I tried not to let him see how much I was hurting. Dammit, I wanted to wipe that smirk off of his face. But right now, it seemed he held all the cards. He stood over me, his stance relaxed, casual, and watched me breathe shallowly, trying to ignore the fire in my belly, the sharp, hot pain in my shoulder. He seemed to be enjoying himself.

I looked up at his cold eyes.

"What do you expect to gain by this," I ground out painfully, unable to resist the temptation throw in a little sarcasm, "besides the pleasure of our company?" I really should learn to keep my mouth shut sometimes.

His backhanded blow rocked my head to the side and for a brief moment I think I actually saw stars. I was distantly aware of McKay's high-pitched, protesting "Oh, come on!" and a growl of rage that almost certainly came from Ronon as the pounding in my skull kicked up another notch. I took a moment to let the room stop spinning, moving my jaw carefully from side to side, working out the throbbing ache from the impact.

He waited until I got my brain in gear again and gingerly turned my head back to the front before making his point.

"I will ask the questions, Colonel Sheppard."

This was turning into a really, _really_ bad day.

I made an executive decision to lay off on the sarcasm for a while, at least until the throbbing pain in my head settled down a bit. The guy was obviously enjoying his moment of power so I figured if I waited long enough he'd start talking anyway and tell us what he wanted. There's nothing an evil mastermind likes better than to tell everyone just how clever his plan is.

He moved away from me, one of his guards stepping closer to cover me with his gun, just in case I felt like doing something really stupid. I gave the goon a nasty smile and concentrated on not throwing up. Concussion and a punch in the gut really wasn't a great combination.

Our mystery captor certainly played the Bond villain role to the hilt, strolling around the room, confident in his superiority, regarding each of us in turn with a cold smile that I really didn't like the look of. I decided to name him Blofeld. The pain in my stomach was slowly easing but I couldn't say the same of the fiery throb of the gunshot wound in my shoulder. I tried to take my mind off it by thinking about asking Blofeld where his cat was but the fact that he wouldn't get the joke kinda took the fun out of it. There was a tiny voice at the back of my mind that wanted to ask him anyway, just for the hell of it. That little voice gets me into a lot of trouble at times.

I chanced a look around at the rest of my team as Blofeld smugly surveyed his captive audience, turning my head very carefully for fear of aggravating an already punishing headache. Everyone seemed to be following my lead on keeping quiet and letting the scary sociopath do all the talking. Ronon was leaning forward in his chair, his body tense and controlled, an explosion of violence just waiting to be unleashed. His attention was fixed on the guards, particularly the one who'd pistol-whipped him earlier. I really didn't envy that guy; he was in for a world of trouble once we got loose from here. I refused to allow myself to consider the possibility that we might not get out of here. Beyond the barely-contained fury that was Ronon, Teyla was the epitome of calm. She faced Blofeld without an ounce of fear in her eyes, her control supreme. Rodney, on the other hand, was as white as a sheet. His eyes met mine as I tilted my head gingerly to look at him and his face showed his every emotion; fear, anger, discomfort and even a measure of concern. Concern for me? I gave him my best maddening grin and saw his lips tighten in exasperation, his chin rising belligerently. Good. I needed Rodney angry, not scared. Angry at me was a good enough start.

I turned my head back and found Blofeld watching me with a small smile. He'd finished his victory lap and if I were a betting man I'd say he was about ready to give us the evil genius speech. His eyes flicked from me to McKay for a split second, a quick, fleeting look but enough to make an icy finger of fear creep up my spine. His eyes fixed only on mine, that smug smile firmly in place as he spoke.

"You're probably thinking that your friends will come from Atlantis to find you, yes?" I had schooled my face, refusing to show any reaction to his words, but his smile grew nonetheless. "Yes, Colonel. We know all about the city of the Ancestors – and the fact that its rumoured destruction is nothing more than a lie."

He paused for a moment and seemed to be waiting for a response from me but I'd learned my lesson, thanks very much, and I really wasn't in the mood for any more punches right now. Discretion being the better part of valour and all that. Despite what McKay might think, I can shut up when necessary. I met Blofeld's gaze levelly and let my eyes do the talking. From his smile I knew he'd understood every word.

"There will be no rescue, Colonel Sheppard. Your friends will not find you here. This facility is a very well-kept, well-guarded secret, Colonel. No-one in the village knows of it. None outside of my team even know of its existence. Your friends will find only that you left the village and were not seen again." He watched me closely as he spoke, gauging my reactions, using words as a weapon to try and shake me, to probe the weak spots in my armour.

I guess my lack of reaction must have spoilt his fun because suddenly he changed tack and walked over to stand in front of McKay. I couldn't help tensing up a little, wondering what the hell he was up to, and from the sly look he threw me I knew he'd seen it. Dammit.

He didn't even bother speaking to Rodney, his attention was focused entirely on me as he slammed his fist into McKay's face. The blow came without warning and left McKay reeling, his startled yelp of surprise quickly tailing off into a low moaning as he hung from his bindings, slumped sideways in the chair, his head hanging forward. Blood dripped from his nose, spattering on the bare, stone floor. A sharp word from one of the guards told me of Ronon's instinctive reaction.

"You son of a bitch!" It was stupid, I know, but I couldn't keep quiet while this sick bastard used McKay to get to me. My shoulder pulled painfully as I struggled futilely against the ropes tying me to the chair. I've never wanted anything so much as I wanted right then to kick this guy's ass.

Blofeld grinned as he flexed his right hand, working out the sting from his knuckles. I looked past him to where McKay was still tilted over to one side, making odd sputtering noises as he tried to breathe through the pain and the congestion in his nose. "McKay? You alright?"

He lifted his head at that, an expression of disbelief on his bloodied face. "Ob course I'b dot alrighd!" he sputtered indignantly. "Do I _loob_ alrighd! He _hid_ be! I dink he brode by dose!" McKay was working up to a fully-fledged rant when Blofeld put a stop to the festivities.

"Be quiet, Dr McKay."

His quiet words carried an undertone of menace and for once Rodney actually did as he was told, his words faltering as a combination of shock and a belated instinct for self-preservation kicked in. I found my attention pulled from McKay's pinched, shocky face when Blofeld moved back around to stand over me, calmly rubbing his knuckles as he gazed calmly down at me. The look I gave him in return was anything but calm. If I could've gotten my hands free right then I would have had them round his throat in an instant. He would've wished he tangled with Ronon instead by the time I'd done with him. But wishful thinking wasn't gonna get us out of here. And if what he'd said was true…

"There is no rescue for you, Colonel. You would do well to cooperate."

I was pretty sure I'd already decided that sarcasm wasn't the best idea in this current situation but, dammit, I was tired and hurting and way beyond pissed off and the self-preservation instinct only goes so far. I just couldn't keep the bite out of my voice as I glared up at him.

"Cooperate with what exactly? You beating the crap out of us for fun?"

Blofeld's smile was beatific and I realised belatedly I'd just given him exactly what he wanted. An excuse.

"Oh not _just_ for fun, Colonel Sheppard," he teased, gesturing without looking at the nearby guard still training his weapon on me. I didn't see what the guard passed to him but a moment later he was crouching in front of me, a short, sharp, nasty looking blade held lightly in his hand.

"We went to a lot of trouble to bring you and your team here," he continued, "and not just for my entertainment." He twirled the knife casually in his hand, the blade dancing and spinning lazily on the edges of my vision. I refused to give the bastard the satisfaction of watching him play with the knife, ignoring his mind games in favour of staring him down. We were on a level now, face to face, and I was mildly gratified to find that he wasn't looking quite so smug now, his smile faltering a little as he met my gaze.

His voice was serious now, his eyes cold and grey as he revealed his master plan. "We want information, Colonel. Information on the Ancestors' technology, on how to use it, where to find it. This technology is our birthright, Colonel Sheppard. Entrusted to the people of the Pegasus Galaxy by the Ancestors to help defend us against the Wraith. You people have no right to it. You will hand over your access to that technology and you will teach my people how to use it."

So there it was. At last, we were getting down to business. All that had gone before was merely foreplay, getting the measure of one's opponents. Now the chips were on the table. I opted to open with a bluff.

"Well then, you've got the wrong guy. I don't know a damn thing about Ancient technology."

Blofeld's smile came back and I knew my bluff had been called. This was a high stakes game and I had the nasty feeling I'd just been outbid. "That may be so, Colonel Sheppard, that may be so." He stood up abruptly and my head spun for a moment as I moved it too quickly, trying to track his movement.

When the black spots cleared from my vision I found Blofeld standing over McKay, the knife spinning and dancing in his hand. He smiled at me. "But Dr McKay does, doesn't he?" He looked down at Rodney. There was apprehension in McKay's eyes but, bloodied nose or not, I recognised that stubborn tilt to McKay's chin. He returned Blofeld's look with a tight-lipped, mutinous glare of his own. Our host turned his gaze back to me as he murmured, "Dr McKay knows a great deal about the Ancestors' technology, isn't that so?"

Probably too late now to do any good but I kept my mouth shut this time, refusing to let him goad me into a response. I kept my eyes on Blofeld but I was keenly aware of the nervous tension to McKay's posture, his face white with fear, blood drying across his cheeks and upper lip, his eyes glued helplessly to the twirling knife in Blofeld's hand.

The palpable silence from behind me told me that Ronon and Teyla also were watching this little drama play itself out. There was a humming tension in the air that threatened to snap, to explode into violence, at any moment. My head was pounding, making me dizzy, and what I really needed right now was maybe five minutes or so without the threat of imminent pain and torture, just a little time to think, for us to find a way out of this.

It was McKay who broke the stifling silence, nervous fear pushing his voice into a higher register, making it crack, "I'm not telling you a damn thing." I had to admire his bravado as he continued, "I know how this crap works. I tell you want you want to know and you don't need me anymore and you kill me anyhow. So no way." He pushed his chin out in defiance of his own fear and I wanted to at once hug him for his unexpected bravery and cuff him around the head for his stupid, ill-timed bravery.

Blofeld's smile did not falter. "Your courage surprises me. Doctor. Our information on you is perhaps not as complete as I thought. No matter, however. I did not expect you to give up your secrets so easily." He walked away from McKay, twirling the knife idly as he moved, a man at ease in his environment, secure in his superiority. He came to a stop beside me, turning back to McKay with a considering look. I watched his every move, not liking the vibe I was getting off of him. I had a really bad feeling that this was going to end painfully for someone…

"A man may be brave in the face of torture," Blofeld mused casually, his gaze flicking from McKay to me. I caught a glimpse of something dark, something vicious in those eyes. "But how brave will he be when it is not he, but his friends who will suffer?"

He moved lightening fast and, despite my premonition, I wasn't expecting it. The blade in his hand stopped twirling and his arm moved, stabbing downwards faster than my eyes could follow. The next thing I knew was pain, roaring, howling pain, and I couldn't hold back a scream, the sound thundering in my ears, mingling with Teyla's cry, Ronon's cursing and Rodney's shocked, disbelieving, "No!"

I found myself breathing through gritted teeth, caught once again between the angry pain pulling at my shoulder and the need to curl around the new source of agony. Sweat beaded on my forehead and my vision swam, my own scream making the aching pounding in my head that much worse. I think I bit through my lip when he ripped the knife free from my thigh. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure. The pain was overwhelming, tensing and trembling my muscles, robbing me of my breath, leaving me gasping raggedly, my head drooping. I was only vaguely aware of the coppery taste of blood in my mouth, of the hot, wet sensation of blood beginning to trickle down my leg.

Through the roaring in my eyes I could hear voices; Teyla calling my name, Ronon offering up dire threats to our captors, Rodney mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like "Ohgodohgodohgod.."

When eventually I lifted my head I found Blofeld standing over me, the knife spinning and twirling once more in his hand. The blade gleamed wetly, dripping blood onto his fingers as he played with it. He didn't seem to care. His smile was gone now, his voice nothing but serious as he ignored me, focusing his gaze on Rodney.

"Dr McKay. Tell us what you know of the Ancestors' technology."

* * *

_TBC..._


End file.
